


Riot!

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: 2011 London Riots, AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the riots break out, Chester takes Mike on a date - looting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riot!

After the cops shoot a student during a protest the riots start. After a while it stops being strange seeing riot police lining the streets at night. Mike isn’t sure what is more disconcerting - the cops or the looters. Who should he be more afraid of? His neighbours with their bricks, bandanas and survivalist attitudes? Or the cops with the staccato beat of their batons against their riot shields and their shoot-first-ask-questions-later bullshit?

Any other time it’d be easy - Mike has always had a pretty strong idea of right and wrong. Breaking windows, trashing property and looting are wrong. Police protecting the general public is right. But they show no mercy, and beating up anybody who is guilty only by association is not right.

It’s hard to pick sides, so Mike mostly just stays inside. With everywhere locked down there’s nothing to do, nowhere to go. Not even work. So Mike sits by the window and watches teenagers in black hoodies run down the street with broken bottles in their hands whilst Chester watches the news.

“They’re imposing curfews,” he says, “nobody seems to know when. But they’re going to. Anybody on the street after a certain time will be arrested for a breach of the peace.”

“That won’t work,” Mike says sullenly.

“It’s the only thing they have left.” Chester gets up from where he is sitting on the floor in front of the TV and stands behind Mike, looping his arms around his waist. “Before the curfews maybe we should go out, you know?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Chester laughs. “Kind of. I was thinking - if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. You know?”

Mike frowns, shrugs. “You want to go looting. What for, a new TV? I could buy us a TV.”

“No. Well, yeah, looting. But not really. I just think…we’ve always done as we’re told and we’re being treat like the rest of them. When I went to buy milk yesterday I was searched by a bunch of cops with guns, you know? Why the fuck shouldn’t we just…”

“Give in?”

“It’s not like that. We’re not doing anything worse than anyone else. I promise we won’t steal anything.”

Turning around in the embrace Mike rests his forehead against Chester’s and sighs softly. “I don’t want to.”

“Well then you’ll never know what it was like.”

“You know I can’t say no to you,” Mike says, closing his eyes.

And Chester laughs, saying “Yeah,” saying, “I know.”

***

That night they both leave their apartment in black jeans, black caps, black hoodies, black bandanas tied across their mouths - partly to hide their faces, partly to filter the fumes from the air. In the dark it’s hard to tell men from women so, for the first time in a while, they don’t worry about walking hand in hand down the street. Chester tows Mike along as rioters race past them in every direction screaming and laughing.

Where they are headed Mike has no idea. He tries to keep his eyes glued to the ground so as not to trip over the debris lying everywhere from burnt out cars. Eventually, though, they stop and Chester says, “Stay here, keep watch.”

Mike stands, his hands buried in the pocket of his hoody. Behind him he can’t hear a thing and wonders for a second if Chester has left him - ran off and abandoned him. Then, just as the thought plants itself firmly in his mind, someone grabs his hand and drags him away. Spinning around Mike is met with Chester’s grinning face as he is pulled through an open door and into darkness.

“Close the door,” Chester says and Mike does as he is told as the lights illuminate the room.

Looking around Mike can’t help but smile. “The ice cream parlour?” He laughs. “How did you get the door open?”

“Did you know you can buy lock-pick kits and guides off of eBay?”

“No.”

“Well, you can. I’ve been picking our apartment lock all week to practice.” Chester grins, triumphant. “Sit down,” he says, sweeping his arm toward a booth before disappearing behind the counter. Grabbing two sundae glasses he scoops bubble gum, vanilla, strawberry, apple crumble, white chocolate, mint. He adds crumbled chocolate, gummy bears, marshmallows, chocolate sauce, raspberry sauce, sprinkles.

“You’re good at this,” Mike smiles, resting his hand on his chin.

Chester raises his eyebrows and smirks. “I am a jack of all trades,” he says as he comes to sit opposite Mike, pushing a sundae toward him.

Mike tucks in and soon has melted ice cream around his mouth, on his fingers, on the table.

“How old are you, five?”

“Your mom.”

Chester laughs hysterically and Mike thinks it’s the first sound of genuine happiness that has been heard in public for a while. Leaning over the table Chester kisses him gently, licking the ice cream from his lips before sitting back down.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he says, blushing. “This would have been lame without you. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always,” Mike smiles.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

When they’re finished Chester takes their glasses into the small kitchen and washes them, along with the utensils. He brings out a damp cloth and wipes the table and puts everything away where he found it before digging twenty bucks out of his pocket and putting it in the till.

“That ought to cover the ice cream and a tip.”

“But you served yourself.”

“Yeah well, it was great service,” Chester grins.

As they leave Mike flicks off the lights, plunging the parlour into darkness. Chester makes sure the door has locked behind them before they leave, walking hand in hand through crowds of looters toward home.


End file.
